


A Holly Jolly Christmas

by silentexplorer18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas Eve, Christmas Party, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Female Reader, Gen, Nice Draco Malfoy, Snowed In, Very Kind Reader, super sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21882265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentexplorer18/pseuds/silentexplorer18
Summary: You throw a party on Christmas Eve for some Hogwarts alumni.  However, the weather has other ideas in mind for you this holiday season.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	A Holly Jolly Christmas

Golden flickers trailed up the wall and over the glittering tree that burst from the corner of your parlor, the warmth of the fire adding a glorious heat to the otherwise chilly room. The tree was real, charmed to retain it’s deep green hue, and adorned with a plethora of festive ornaments. Garland trickled up the mantle and through the room, teasing doorways with hints of holly and mistletoe. For the second time that evening, you bustled through the homey space, assuring all the presents were snug under the tree and the cookies, one of many assortments of holiday treats, were arranged delicately on your favorite platter.

Everything was in order for a perfect holiday celebration. Thus, you were eager to open the door when the first set of sharp knocks echoed through your home.

Swinging open the sturdy wood, a cold gust of wind slapped against your figure as your blond guest slipped through the entryway, tailored shoes resting stiffly against your old, woven rug. His face contorted in distaste. Presumably, that’s what happens when a man of polished wood furniture and marble pillars and pristinely pressed outerwear encounters a woman of mismatched furniture and homemade holiday decor and distinctly overzealous Christmas apparel. That’s just what happens when Draco encounters you.

At least he had the decency to withhold a sneer; undoubtedly, his cheeks were too numb to form a proper one.

“Draco,” you spoke warmly, attempting to hide the discomfort in your voice at being alone with someone who quite earnestly abhorred your lifestyle, “I’m so glad you could make it. If you’d like, I can take your coat. Then we can wait in the living room for the others.”

He eyed you with an expression you couldn’t quite place, already beginning to unwind the snow speckled scarf from around his neck. “No one else is coming,” he stated, the sharpness of his tone forming a pit in your stomach with each new syllable. “The local floos are all shut down from the blizzard, and the weather is far too unfavorable for people to be apparating tonight.” Your look of shock morphed to one of disappointment and dismay before his very eyes, an expression he did indeed scoff at. “And as if things couldn’t possibly get any worse,” he huffed, “I’m trapped here until the storm lifts.”

Numbly, you took his scarf and coat, draping them over the coat rack near the door. Nobody was coming. All your festive excitement had been a waste. “I suppose you should make yourself comfortable while you wait,” you suggested, attempting to ignore his blatant disgust, instead opting to attempt a civil evening for the both of you. With a wave of your hand, he stepped into your all too festive living room. Draco spared you any scathing remarks on the decor, instead perching himself uncomfortably on one of your mismatched chairs. The beige paisley was hideous, even you had to admit, but the joy of it being yours, _your_ first piece of furniture, made up for the unsightly pattern.

He held his hands toward the fire. Again, you were struck with what he had said: a blizzard. On Christmas Eve no less.

“Tea?” you queried.

“No, no thank you.” He mustn’t have been as cold as you thought.

“Is there anything you’d like?”

Another scoff. Pronounced even more with an eyeroll. Somehow, he still managed to make them appear elegant, posh even when they were directed toward you. “I’d like to be home on Christmas.” Tone icy, heat rose to your cheeks as he continued. “I don’t see why you feel it necessary to hold these parties so close to Christmas anyway.”

“Christmas Eve is as good a time as any to celebrate,” you shot back, not bothering to mask your irritation.

“Christmas is meant to be spent with _family_. These parties encroach on that time; it’s rather selfish of you.”

“I know,” you snapped, noting the way his brows arched in surprise. “I know.” With a huff, you plopped down on the carpet beside the tree, hands pulling out the carefully wrapped parcels. Silently, you began to sort them.

Potter. Weasley. Weasley. Weasley. Longbottom. Potter. Potter. Weasley.

The silence was almost peaceful until Draco had to break it. “What in Salazar’s name are you doing now?”

“Sorting,” you sighed, eyes raking up to meet his own. “I’ll need to owl everyone their presents now, won’t I? All of them but yours.” You continued sorting.

“Mine?”

Reaching under the tree, you pulled out a thin box with golden wrappings. The paper was ornate and glimmered in the firelight as you slid it across the carpet to him. When you’d done the wrapping, you’d adored the beautiful, golden cover, and figured Draco would find it lovely. The sinking feeling in your chest suggested you were wrong.

“You got me a present?” he asked, eyeing it warily. With a nod, you finished sorting the last of the packages, allowing yourself to look up at him again.

He’d picked it up while you weren’t looking, turned it in his elegant hands and examined it with a scrutinous gaze that seemed to bore through everything.

“I simply can’t take this,” he stated, holding the package out toward you. “I haven’t gotten a thing for you.” Aggravation still ebbed into his voice despite the fact that his gaze had softened considerably. “Your invitation clearly stated not to bring presents.”

Rising, you perched on the couch, clearly avoiding taking the box from his hands. “I know what I mailed out.” His pointed look prompted you to continue. “It’s just nice, is all, giving a little something to everyone. That’s what Christmas is all about, mind you, bringing people kindness and joy.”

“Well providing presents to people who can’t provide anything back certainly isn’t joyful,” he snapped. “Just take it, give it to someone else. Why waste your money on a gift for me, for any of us?”

“Not all of us have family to give gifts to.” You offered him a sad smile, and the look of surprise and discomfort that washed across his face, through his body, stiffened his spine all the way down to the bones in his dapper shoes, sent a pang through your heart.

“I thought your parents were muggles?” It was more a statement than a question, as you both remembered the word _mudblood_ fall from his lips as you crossed paths in Hogwarts.

You bit your lip, choosing your next words wisely as he studied you. “They are.” Your tone was awkward. “I needed to _obliviate_ them to protect them from…”

Death Eaters. You both knew the end of that sentence, both too uncomfortable to finish it.

Although you’d forgiven Draco for his part in the war, knowing wholeheartedly that his decisions, while seemingly wrong, were based on his upbringing and protecting those he loved, Draco seemed far less accepting of his choices. It seemed he would never forgive himself for what he’d done. What he often failed to forget was that regardless of what side he’d chosen, Voldemort’s or Harry’s, people would have died either way, and, regardless, he would have blamed himself for those deaths. Over time, he’d gotten much better at being unruffled by the mentioning of Death Eaters and the war, but tonight, on Christmas Eve of all nights, he wasn’t prepared for it.

“I should go,” he rushed out, rising and heading toward the coat rack quickly, having gently deposited the present on the coffee table. His coat was pulled on rapidly, scarf in his fist as he pulled the doorknob.

The snow was a good half a meter high with fluffy flakes still floating downward rapidly. Having followed him to the door, you stared in shock at the vast amount that had accumulated. With a shiver, you placed a hand on Draco’s elbow. The blond glanced at you, pushing the door shut again with nominal effort.

“I think I’ll take that tea now.”

* * *

The two of you sat on the couch together, a little farther from the fire but still warm nonetheless. Draping some blankets across both of your laps, you dug into some of the holiday treats you’d made for the party, gently sipping at tea along the way.

He’d been pleasantly surprised by your options, even offering a compliment as you displayed a small array of tea bags. The conversation was civil.

You could tell he was still uncomfortable from what you’d mentioned before, so you opted to choose a slightly different route. Desiring to be vulnerable enough to even the playing field, you began, “My parents only celebrated Christmas because they had me. My father hated holidays, all of them, and my mother was always _exceptionally_ frugal. But they wanted me to experience Christmas, so they celebrated for a long time. I’ve gone back a few times after _obliviating_ them, just to see how they are. I don’t talk to them or go inside, just use a little magic to check on them. They don’t celebrate anymore. I don’t exist, so they never had a reason to celebrate.”

Draco was staring at you, nearly gaping at your words. He probably would have been, were it not for his desire to appear poised and dignified at all times. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be,” you shook your head. “They hated Christmas. If anything, I did them a favor,” you laughed.

He cracked a smile at your joke, eyes still holding a little guilt, but the joy was enough to move forward with.

Saying the two of you became fast friends would be a bit of a stretch, especially since you’d known one another since First Year, but as the night progressed, awkward silences became less frequent and there were jokes aplenty. The longer Draco was by your side, the more comfortable he seemed to become, offering a great deal of conversation amongst cookie munching and tea sipping.

By one in the morning, you’d drifted off to sleep on the couch beside him, and the blond realized with a flush that it was Christmas Day. Reaching forward hesitantly, he grasped the gold box in his hand, gazing at it in faint wonder. The paper tore gently and it didn’t take long for him to slide open the black box inside.

There was a note, incredibly simple in your neat scrawl, as if you’d taken time to assure your writing was pretty and legible.

> Draco,
> 
> I saw someone with one of these and thought of you. I remember you saying once that you adore decorative things.
> 
> Happy Christmas!

Pushing open the tissue paper revealed a handkerchief. Cream colored and already folded for a suit pocket, he gazed at the swirling green lettering on the corner. D.L.M. It was elegant, beautiful in every embroidered loop and swirl the dark threads provided. Securing the box lid on it protectively, his cheeks flushed with realization as it occurred to him that it must have cost a fortune for you to purchase something custom for him, even getting the color down to the perfect Slytherin green - his favorite.

He had to make things up to you.

* * *

Eight in the morning was far too early to wake up on Christmas Day, you realized glumly as you rose from the couch. Bleary eyed and off balance from your unusual surroundings - it was not often you found yourself asleep on the couch -, a small sigh left your lips as you noticed Draco had disappeared. Gift no longer on the table and coat no longer on the hook, it was safe to assume he’d awoken and taken the closest floo back to the manor. He had mentioned his mother always adoring Christmas.

The light tap on the door startled you. It was not often someone came knocking at such an hour. Standing, you waved your wand, muttering a few quick spells to freshen your appearance before carefully opening the door.

It was Draco.

And more.

Before you could really register what was going on, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Neville, George, Angelina, and all the children came bustling through the door, pulling off coats, unraveling scarves, discarding gloves, and offering jovial greetings.

Your eyes shot to Draco’s. He was waving his wand casually, the cookie trays replenishing themselves, kettle cleaning itself and preparing tea anew, blankets and pillows righting themselves on the furniture, and, of course, the presents sliding back under the tree, as well as a few others, a few new ones, that seemed to have arrived with your merry bunch of friends.

“Draco, what in Merlin’s name are you doing?” you asked, unable to hide the surprised smile on your lips.

With a smirk, he replied, “Spreading a little kindness and joy. That _is_ what Christmas is about, after all.”

Your smile was priceless, and although he would deny it later, Draco was smiling, too, when you all sat down to enjoy a cheery holiday morning together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Happy holidays to all of you out there that celebrate. You can also find me on [Tumblr](https://silentexplorer18.tumblr.com/).


End file.
